No Matter How Many Years Pass
by Rem The Writer
Summary: Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, all rights belong to Funimation. Germany has finally gotton up the nerve to propose to Italy...
1. Chapter 1

No Matter How Many Years Pass

A Brief Gerita Fanfiction by Rem

Germany hadn't bothered to get a ring. It seemed too feministic for even the man he was proposing to. Of course, he hadn't always thought the love of his life was a guy. He remembered the days he used to dream about the little girl in the green dress, who would dance around the house of Austria with a push broom. He remembered the first day he'd spoken to her. _We'll be with each other again soon, okay? For sure, okay?_ He couldn't promise her that. _No matter how many years pass, I'll love you the most of anyone in this world!_ He hadn't said that out loud of course. Now he'd found Italy, a man, the person he was meant to be with. The little girl seemed like a dream to him now.

"Italy." Germany's voice is quiet. Italy doesn't notice, skipping happily about the room. "Italy!" Germany raises his voice, staring intently at the small man.

"Yes, Germany?" Italy looks back at his best friend, a grin spreading upon his face. Germany's heart warms at the sight of Italy's smile.

"Italy, there's something I've been meaning to ask you…" A lump catches in Germany's throat. He feared the answer to the upcoming question. Italy couldn't read it in his face.

"Yes? C'mon now, Mr. Germany, don't leave me guessing like this! Germanyyyyyy!" Italy stretches the final sound of Germany's name out for a good six seconds.

"It's just…" Germany goes down on one knee. "I was wondering if you would marry me…"

Italy stares at his friend for a second, opening his brown eyes wide. "I can't…" he whispers. "I can't do that…"

"Why not?" Disappointment flows through Germany's veins. The pain hit him not a second afterwards. But Germany wasn't surprised. Italy was unpredictable, loveable, and foreign to him. He knew Italy couldn't possibly love him as much as he loved Italy. _Ich liebe dich_. Italy had never understood.

"Germany… you are my best friend. But… I…" Italy takes in a deep breath. "I'm waiting for someone."

_Holy Rome is dead!_ Germany screams in his head. But he says nothing out loud. Italy had never told Germany about his love for the Holy Roman Empire. He'd only ever called him "that boy." But Germany knew. He'd known for a long time. Germany turns his face away from Italy, tears close to dripping from his eyes, anger welling up inside him. The world turned to pastels as Germany ran away.

Italy stares after his friend. _Oh, Mr. Germany, _Italy thinks. _I do love you, I really do! I promised myself I'd wait for Holy Rome. You would understand if you knew him, Germany. He told me he'd come back…_ This was not true. Holy Rome had told Italy he may come back. But over the years, Italy had changed the words to suit his needs. Italy runs after Germany. _I need to tell him I still care…_

Germany stands under a tree, devastated, but he did not cry. His huge blue eyes had not cried this many tears in years. Decades. Centuries. Not since…

"Germany!"

_Oh, what now? How can you cause me any more pain?_ Germany thinks. "Stop!" He shouts. Italy halts immediately. "Why do you run from me when I chase you, yet chase me when I run?" Italy's eyes widen. This wasn't the first time Italy had heard those words.

"No, Germany! Don't go!" Italy cries irrationally.

Germany starts at this reaction. "I'm not leaving," he says, as gently as he could muster. The urge to yell in anger is nearly overwhelming. "I just… need you to leave me alone."

Italy whimpers and turns away. Germany waits for a few minutes, and then goes back into the house. The delicious smell of pasta wafts through the house. Italy is cooking. Germany smiles slightly. He turns to his room.

Deep in Germany's closet lays a dusty old push broom, nearly falling apart due to its extreme age. Germany pulls it out. He handles it with extreme care, feeling the old wood, the bristly brushes, the smooth handle. It used to be a lot bigger… or perhaps Germany was once a lot smaller. He remembered when the girl handed him the push broom. Back when Germany was not called Germany; his name was Holy Roman Empire. He'd fallen in love with that girl. Her name was Italy. He'd loved her since the tenth century, and she had finally loved him back… just as he left… just as he said goodbye…

_No matter how many years pass, I'll love you the most of anyone in this world!_

The broom breaks in Germany's hands, and the tears spill over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Lyrics to the song are by Skillet.**

Part II: Prussia's House

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone  
Someone that I like better  
I can never forget  
So don't remind me of it forever_

What if I just pulled myself together  
Would it matter at all  
What if I just try not to remember  
Would it matter at all  
All the chances that have passed me by  
Would it matter if I gave it one more try  
Would it matter at all

Germany sings the song in his head as he walks slowly away from his house. He has decided to go over to his brother's house. He debates whether to tell Prussia what happened. Prussia has never been the sympathetic type. When Germany stopped drinking to impress Japan, Prussia had hung big cups of beer in front of his face, because Prussia didn't like it when Germany changed anything in his life. How would he take this…

"Prussia? Bruder?" Germany calls out, staring at his brother's house.

"Germany?" Prussia bounds out the door. "My brother! Don't tell me- I know why you're here: to soak up my awesome!" Prussia laughs.

Germany scowls, and Prussia clamps him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit!"

"Prussia…" Germany sighs. "Have you ever proposed to someone.

Prussia looks startled for a second, then throws his head back, laughing. "Who'm I to propose to? Hungary?" He laughs.

"Well, you did seem interested in her after her divorce from Austria…"

"No, brother! I do not waste my time with such things as _love_…" Prussia laughs again. Germany's heart sinks. He should have known that Prussia couldn't help. "_Why_, Germany? Did you finally propose to your boyfriend-girlfriend-gender-neutral-country you hang out with so much?"

"I did propose to Italy, and he's not my boyfriend," Germany mumbles under his breath.

Prussia's eyes light up. "YOU DID?!" Germany quickly tells his brother the story.

"Why didn't you just tell him? Or show him the broom?" Prussia says in what seems to be a serious voice. "He would have taken you!"

"You don't understand." Germany turns and leaves. Prussia was of no use to him anymore. "I don't want him to love me for who I was then. I want him to love me for who I am now."

Prussia stands in the doorway, stunned, as his brother walks away. Then he promptly forgets and goes on to do more awesome things.


	3. Chapter 3

Japan had already heard about his friends' predicament. At first, he thought it best to stay out of it. The closest he had ever gotten to a relationship was old Greece, and Japan hadn't seen him since his own economy skyrocketed and Greece's did everything but died. But now it was Christmas, and he had invited his old friends over to his house to celebrate, and he figured he would have to face it now. Germany had proposed a little over a month ago, and though they'd both spoken of it briefly, he hadn't heard much of it. He hoped they'd avoid it tonight for his sake.

Someone knocks on Japan's door. "Who is it?" he calls softly. The door opens softly. "Itaria!" He calls in delight. Italy smiles weakly at Japan. "But where is Doitsu?"

Italy's face falls. "He isn't coming."

Japan's face doesn't change, but his mind whirls. "But why?"

A tear drops down Italy's face. "He doesn't even speak to me anymore, Japan. He just can't seem to… I don't… I'm sorry."

Seeing Italy like this was unnatural. Usually Italy was bubbly and happy. Nothing made him sad. Afraid, maybe, but never sad. "Oh, Itary…" Japan says. But Japan was beyond comforting Italy. Japan had buried his feelings before he knew even China.

"I hurt my friend, Japan!" Italy wails. "I haven't felt this bad since… since I was a child. Since I lived with Austria. Can I ever repair it?"

"I don't know things rike that, Itary. I am not Germany. I cannot terr you he thinks. He was disappointed and heartbroken, you know." Japan thought it best to stop talking there. He wasn't helping.

Italy rubs his eyes. "I just can't believe… I have to have Christmas without him…"

Japan looks away. "Have you ever considered… retting go of Hory Roman Empire?"

"No!"

"Werr, then, how do you ever expect to rove anyone ever again?"

Italy shrugs. "I just… I do love Germany. He's my best friend."

Japan rolls his eyes. "_Rerationships…_" he mumbles under his breath. He pulls out some wine for Italy. "Here, come see what I bought you…"

No one else comes to Japan's house that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you everyone who has reviewed and followed this story. It really has meant so much to me. **** Please don't stop reviewing and reading my pieces! This is the final chapter of my first, brief fanfic. **

Part IV: Never Enough

Japan walks side by side with Germany. Germany hasn't said a thing all day, and Japan is quite pleased with this. He doesn't like talking much, even to his good friend Germany. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Japan is worried. Germany hasn't been angry. Only been at peace. _Perhaps this is a good thing,_ Japan thinks. _He has hardree ever been at peace since Itary carred him at Christmas._ Japan shudders at the memory.

_"Germany?"_

_ "Ja? Who is this?"_

_ "Italy…"_

_ "Vhat do you want?"_

_ "To wish you merry Christmas, Mr. Germany!"_

_ "Oh. Well… merry Christmas to you too, Italy. Anything else?"_

_ Germany hadn't waited. He'd hung up after he'd said the word else. Italy only managed to get out the words ti amo. _ _Germany hadn't heard._

"Japan?" Germany's voice stirs Japan from the memory. "No matter what happens today, you're going to be fine. Right?"

"Of course." Japan says nothing else. He had been suspecting what was going to happen for quite some time now.

Germany sets off. Japan's heart thunders with speed and fear, but he says nothing. Nothing will stop Germany now. "Good ruck, wonderfur Doitsu. Rovery Hory Rome."

Germany keeps walking. He doesn't hesitate as he walks into his house, goes to his closet, and pulls out the push broom. He has taped it back, but the splinters still pierce his hands. "_Ich liebe dich._" Then he turns and walks out. He doesn't look back.

He wonders where he is going to go. A country such as his will not disappear easily. Not like when he was the Holy Roman Empire. _Suicide mission._ Germany snorts. Like a country can commit suicide. Well, he could go to Russia. Russia would help him vanish.

"Germanyyyy!" At first, he was sure he'd imagined the voice. Of course, he wanted Italy in his final moments. But when the call came again, he tucked the push broom inside his cloak.

"Ja?"

"Germany! Where are you going? No, don't tell me- I know! You are trying to disappear! No, Germany, you can't. You're my best friend. How could you leave this pretty face?" Italy is crying now, hard. "I LOVE YOU!"

Germany looks into Italy's eyes. "Never enough, Feliciano," Germany whispered.

"I would rather die than watch you go! There is nothing for me without you. You protect me. You love me. You yell at me like there's no tomorrow. I love you for it. Holy Rome is nothing. I see this now. But please… Please don't leave. What would I do without you?"

Germany's heart lightens. Again, Germany is on the verge of crying. He doesn't know what to say. "Do you mean this?"

"Yes." There is no doubt in Italy's words, or in his heart. "I have known since Christmas. You are the only one I love."

Germany smiles. "No matter how many years pass, I'll love you the most of anyone in the world!" he shouts, and grabs Italy, kissing him.

Italy smiles. "No matter how many years pass?"

"Not through the past or the future. I've liked you since the tenth century, you know." Germany presses the push broom into Italy's hands. Italy stares down at his old broom.

Italy raises his tear-soaked face to Germany's. "All this time…"

"Yes, my love. My only love, I remember it well. And you were right. We are together once again." Germany laughs. "Thank you. Thank you, Feliciano Vargas."

Italy doesn't know what to say. He only presses his lips to Germany's once again, knowing now that there was no life after him.


End file.
